Together
by StarBurnedOut
Summary: Malia finds herself alone on Christmas and it really weighs on her, until an unexpected visit from Scott turns the the whole day around. Post-5B.


**Together**

For what felt like the hundredth time, Malia picked her phone up off the cushion next to her and scrolled through her contacts. On the television screen across the room, some Christmas cartoon was playing, the volume turned down low. She'd been staring at it for the last half hour, but if pressed, she wouldn't have been able to quote a single line. Her mind was elsewhere.

Alone on Christmas. Her dad was gone, an unexpected business trip at the last minute putting paid to their loose plans to spend the day together. He'd been apologetic as he packed, promising to make it up to her when he got back, to take a day and do whatever she wanted. She'd waved off his concerns, told him it was okay, she was fine, that it was just another day. Hadn't she spent eight years alone on Christmas? Hadn't last year, her first as a human again, been weird and awkward as she stumbled over customs and traditions she hadn't even thought about in nearly a decade? Hadn't he been just as strained, fumbling to celebrate a holiday he'd ignored since his family had been torn away from him?

It was okay. She was better off alone. She knew alone, was comfortable with it.

With that in mind, she'd made the choice to stay home, despite an invitation to dinner with Lydia and her mom. The invitation was appreciated, but she didn't want to impose on somebody else's family. It didn't feel right. With Lydia especially, who was just so merry, throwing herself into the holiday with gusto. That just wasn't Malia's style. She didn't begrudge her friend for getting in the spirit, but she just couldn't get there with her.

No, it was just easier to stay in, where she had movies and tv, her computer if she got bored of those, and enough leftover Chinese food in the fridge to feed a small army. She'd be fine. Just another night.

Except it wasn't. And it was only now as she sat there, surrounded by the signs of the season, that she fully realised it. Festive cartoons and Hallmark movies were the only things on, all with the same message: Christmas was a time for family. All around her was the mass of glowing lights and decorations her dad had hung everywhere, desperately trying to make up for last year's half-assed effort, just another flashing reminder that on the day where family was what mattered most, she was on her own.

So Malia sat there, alone and lonely, the television on but unwatched, an untouched container of orange chicken sitting on the coffee table, and scrolled through her phone, internally debating calling one of her friends, her dad, anybody. But she just couldn't bring herself to actually do it, always finding a reason to stop herself, to set her phone aside, to tell herself she was fine. She didn't want to impose on them. She didn't want to mess up their plans. She didn't want to admit that she was lonely, that she needed people. It didn't matter that they were her friends, that they loved her, that they knew she loved them. That just wasn't what she did, wasn't who she was.

Not to mention, she wasn't even sure what they were all doing. Stiles had some family tradition with his dad, the same one he'd vaguely explained to her last year. She still had no idea what it was, except that it was something his mom had started, something they continued doing to honour her memory. And she had no idea what Scott was up to, beyond hanging out with his mom. She hadn't seen him much since winter break started. She knew Melissa took a couple days before Christmas off every year, and he was taking advantage of that to spend some time with her while they were both free. She couldn't disturb that.

What that all added up to was a lot of indecision, as she alternated between staring at her phone and looking blankly at the tv, while the little ball of loneliness in the pit of her stomach continued to grow.

Letting out an annoyed growl, Malia tossed her phone to the far side of the couch and leaned forward to snag her chicken off the table. Finding it cold did nothing to improve her mood, even though she knew that wasn't really what she was upset with. She didn't like feeling like she needed somebody, like she wasn't enough for herself anymore. But there was no way to really express that feeling, that frustration, so she used the minor inconvenience at hand as an outlet, cursing her food through tightly-clenched teeth as she rose and headed into the dark kitchen, pausing only to flip the switch, killing all the lights, leaving the house almost entirely dark. After she put the chicken in the microwave, closing the door with way more force then was necessary, she took a seat at the kitchen table, eyes focusing on the light spilling from the tiny window. Leaning forward, elbows on the table, chin in hand, she just stared through it, watching as the container slowly rotated.

Unbidden, a little burst of humourless laughter bubbled out of her, ending in a heavy sigh as she dropped her head down onto the tabletop. This was her Christmas, sitting alone in her kitchen, no friends, no family, no lights, just watching her cold food go round and round and round.

Not for the first time, she wished she could just get drunk. Just for one night. It wouldn't make her problems go away, wouldn't make her any less lonely, any less angry at herself for feeling lonely, but maybe it would let her forget all that for a couple hours. Until the day was over, and the feelings passed, and everything was back to normal.

Damn supernatural constitution.

For a moment after the microwave beeped and fell silent, she continued to stare at it, unmoving. Suddenly, she wasn't hungry, wasn't sure why she'd even left the couch, wasn't sure she wanted to leave her chair. She didn't know _what_ she wanted, or if she wanted anything at all. It was just that kind of night.

She might have sat there, looking blankly ahead for the rest of the night if the sudden sound of heavy footsteps on the front porch hadn't jarred her out of her thoughts. Eyes narrowed, she looked toward the door, just as whoever was out there knocked loudly on it. Rising to her feet, she padded slowly over to the door, craning her neck to see through the window. When she spotted Scott standing on the other side, holding a plastic bag in either hand, she paused for a second, brow briefly furling in confusion before she flicked on the light over her head and reached for the doorknob.

"Hey," he said, a wide grin on his face as the door swung open. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," she automatically repeated, eyes flickering between his face and the bags he was holding. Clearing her throat, she frowned and waved a hand weakly at him and his cargo. "What's, uh, what's going on? What's this?"

Raising his right hand, he looked at the bag there and pursed his lips. "Well I've got some turkey and some stuffing and, uh, some other food in here. I forget exactly what." Then he raised the other one as his returned his gaze to her, corner of his mouth ticking up slightly. "And this one's your Christmas present." When she just crossed her arms and continued to stare at him, he sighed and shrugged. "A little bird told me your dad had to bail on you, and I know how much that sucks. So, I thought I'd bring you some of the leftovers from lunch. At least you can have some real Christmas food for dinner. It's not, y'know, perfect or anything, but it's something, right?"

For a second, she didn't say anything, trying to process the little swell of warmth his gesture had sparked in her. It was such a classic Scott move, earnest and endearing, touching her more deeply than she was prepared to admit.

"That little bird," she finally said, carefully schooling her features to keep from exposing what she was feeling, "she wouldn't happen to have red hair, would she?"

A sheepish grin spread across his face, and he shrugged, letting out a noncommittal hum. "She might, she might." Then he paused, grin fading away as his eyes studied her face closely. "She also told me you turned down an invite to her house, said you told her you were fine on your own."

Shifting uncomfortably under his scrutiny, she shrugged slightly and averted her gaze to a point somewhere over his shoulder. "Yeah, well, I just kinda didn't want to—"

"Hey, hey, whoa!" he interjected, shaking his head and waving his arms hard enough to make the plastic containers in one of the bags tap together. "I'm not here to judge or whatever. You want to be alone, that's totally cool. I can hand these to you, turn around, and go home. No problem. Or..." he offered slowly, smiling again as she refocused on his face, "I can come in, help heat this all up, and have dinner with you, so neither of us is alone on Christmas. Totally up to you. But, uh, if you could choose quickly, I'd appreciate it." He shivered dramatically and arched an eyebrow. "It's a little cold out here."

She couldn't hold back her own grin at that, rolling her eyes as she stepped to the side and gestured for him to come in. "Just put everything on the kitchen table," she said as he stepped inside, doing a little dance to kick his shoes off before he headed forward to set down his burden.

"Hey," he called back to her when she took a second to pair his shoes up and set them to the side, a habit her dad had drilled into her to avoid tripping anybody, "is there a reason all the lights are off?"

"Yeah," she said softly, suddenly a little embarrassed by her earlier decision to go with dark over festive, as she followed him into the kitchen. "I guess I just... I don't know. I wasn't in the mood for..." She trailed off, unsure of exactly how to voice what she'd been feeling.

"It's okay, I get it." There was so much understanding in his voice, she had to take a second and swallow around the little lump that suddenly formed in her throat. "Did, uh, did you want—can I turn them on? Or do you want to—"

"No, go ahead." She gestured toward the light switches on the far wall, and he immediately turned from the table and made his way over to them. "I'm suddenly feeling a lot more merry," she murmured to herself, a little smile crawling across her face as the house once again lit up in all the colours and brightness of the holidays. She wasn't sure if he'd heard her or not, but he offered her a soft smile when he turned around, before he headed back to the table.

"All right, food first or present first?" he asked, bracing his hands on the table and looking up at her, one eyebrow raised in question.

Her eyes lit up as she stepped toward the table, hands instinctively reaching for the second bag, the one without food in it. "Present," she stated, drawing a grin from him. She couldn't help it. She loved opening gifts, a love she'd carried with her since she was a little kid. She thought it might have something to do with the element of surprise, of intrigue, of not knowing what was inside. Or maybe she just really liked getting free stuff. Either way. "Definitely present. But if you want to start on the food, the microwave's behind you, the oven's there, and the plates and bowls and stuff are in the cupboard on your left."

While he busied himself pulling out containers and figuring out the best order to warm them up in, Malia grabbed the other bag and moved over to the counter to stay out of his way. Reaching inside, she pulled out a sloppily-wrapped, soft package with a card taped to it. Beating back the urge to just tear through the wrapping paper like an excited six-year old, she grabbed the card instead and opened it, eyes scanning the words inside, written in Lydia's tiny, neat script.

 _Merry Christmas, Malia! We went with red because we figured it would hide the inevitable bloodstains a little better. Enjoy!  
Love, Lydia and Scott_

Looking over the top of the card, she caught Scott's eye and arched an eyebrow. He'd paused while she was reading and had been watching her face, so he grinned and shrugged sheepishly when he saw her expression.

"Me and Lydia went in together on it. This might shock you, but I freaking _suck_ at picking out gifts. She took pity on me, and all I had to do was spend an entire day playing pack-horse while she did all her Christmas shopping." His voice was full of amusement as he shook his head. "I'm not sure if she's got the biggest extended family in the world, or if she was shopping for the whole town, but I think we cleaned out the entire mall. And I got to cart it all around."

"Eh, you've got super-strength," she said, waving her hand dismissively as her eyes darted back to the card, tracing over the words there.

A perturbed look on his face, he shook his head. "She said the same thing. I'm starting to think this whole werewolf thing is over-rated. It's like owning a pickup truck. Everybody just wants your help when it's time to move something heavy."

Chuckling, she set the card aside and turned back to the package itself. Her hands hovered over it for a moment, as she briefly debated taking her time and slowly unwrapping it. That debate lasted about two seconds before she gave the mental equivalent of a shrug and dug in, her fingers shredding the paper instantly, revealing the red leather jacket inside. "This is really nice!" she said excitedly as she held it up and took a closer look. She'd mentioned a vague plan of getting herself a new jacket to Lydia a couple weeks ago. It touched her to know her friend had been listening to her. "Thanks, Scott."

Turning around from the stove-top, he shot her a crooked grin and nodded. "Glad you like it. You should text Lydia, let her know. I mean, she'll probably just say she knew you'd love it, but it's still nice to hear."

"Yeah," she said absently, still studying the gift. "Yeah, you're right. I'm gonna go do that." Pausing, she hung the jacket over the back of a chair, then gestured to the table and the array of open containers he was making his way through. "You good here?"

He just waved her away, as he turned to pull a steaming bowl of stuffing out of the microwave. "Go, go. I'll try my best not to burn the house down."

Shaking her head in amusement, Malia made her way into the living room and grabbed her phone as she sank back down on the couch. Scrolling to Lydia's name, she typed up a quick thank you message and sent it, then shut off her phone. The last thing she wanted to do was tempt her friend into a long exchange while she was supposed to be having dinner with her mom. Especially since she knew she should probably get back to Scott. He'd been thoughtful enough to make the effort. The least she could do was give him a hand to get everything ready.

Pausing in the doorway, she breathed in the appetising smells of Christmas dinner, unable to hide her smile as she watched him work, his face the picture of concentration as he set the table and arranged everything to his liking. Crossing her arms, she leaned against the wall, contemplating just how radically her night, her whole mood had shifted because of his simple gesture. It felt really good to have it reinforced so vividly that her friends really cared about her. And that he would do this for her, when he really didn't have to, left her heart feeling full, happy inside.

"What's that?" she asked suddenly, wrinkling her nose as he pulled out a bottle full of some liquid she didn't recognise.

"Eggnog," he informed her, holding it up and shaking it lightly. "Ever had any?" She shook her head. "I wasn't sure what you liked, so I just grabbed a bit of everything we had. I love this stuff, but it's not for everyone. Here, try it." Twisting off the top, he handed it to her, watching closely as she took an experimental sniff, then gingerly took a sip. Pulling a face, she quickly handed it back, drawing a chuckle and a nod from him. "Yeah, that's a common reaction. My mom hates it too. But now you know."

"That's gross," she stated, smacking her lips together. In response, he caught her eye and deliberately took a long pull from the bottle, as she looked on, grimacing. "You're gross too."

He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly, then set the bottle down and went back to work. "I think I'm just about done here," he said a moment later, as he grabbed the last bowl out of the microwave and set it on the table. "Time to eat."

As she took a seat, Scott grabbed an empty plate and started loading it up, taking a little from every bowl and container until he couldn't fit anymore on it. A little amused smirk tugged at her lips as he set the plate down in front of her and motioned for her to dig in. "Full service, huh?" she teased as he reached for his own plate. "I could get used to this."

"Don't. The first night is free." Catching her eye, he grinned and winked. "After that, it's gonna cost you."

Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes and grabbed a fork as he resumed filling his plate. The last few months of relative peace had allowed her to get closer to Scott, so she was more used to seeing his playful side come out than she had been. And he was more comfortable showcasing it around her. It made her feel good, seeing that part of him directed at her, when before she'd only caught glimpses when he was around Stiles, and Kira and Lydia to a lesser extent.

Now that her mindset was better, and everything just seemed a little brighter, Malia's lost hunger was back with a vengeance, so she eagerly dug into dinner, the delicious smells making her stomach growl. "Wow," she said after a couple mouthfuls, looking up and catching his eye across the table, "this is freaking good. Your mom made all of this?"

"Yeah. She likes to go all out during the holidays. Try the potatoes. Best you'll ever have."

She did, and he was right. The potatoes were great. They fell into a comfortable silence then, content to just eat and enjoy the food. Having him there, his presence, was just as soothing to her loneliness as a conversation. Words were nice, but they weren't always necessary.

Eventually though, her curiosity got the better of her. "Where is your mom?" she asked quietly, as she speared her fork into a piece of turkey. "I thought you guys were gonna spend all day together."

Holding up a finger, he finished chewing a mouthful, then said, "We do lunch on Christmas. In the evening, her and a couple other nurses go into the hospital and do a little dinner for some of the patients, y'know, the ones in long-term care and the ones who don't have any family. I think she sees it as some or kind of mission or something, to make sure as many people as possible have a happy holiday. Usually I go with her, but I kinda had my own mission this year."

Arching an eyebrow, she scoffed. "What, keeping your lonely friends company?"

"Yeah," he said softly, nodding, as his eyes locked on hers. "Nobody should be alone on Christmas, Malia. Unless it's by choice." Then he shrugged. "And I also wanted to thank you."

"Thank me?" Confused, she looked at him through narrowed eyes. "For what?"

Grinning, he shook his head, waving his fork absently in the air. "Come on, Malia. You didn't think I wouldn't figure out what you've been up to the last few months, did you? I may not be Lydia, but I'm not blind. The visits, the studying, the movies. You've been looking out for me, and I really appreciate it. Really." She could see the sincerity in his dark eyes as he looked at her, expression suddenly as serious as it could be. "It means the world, that you care."

The intensity on his face hit her right in the gut, and she quickly looked away, before he could see how much it affected her. She had been looking out for him. Losing her link with Stiles and then finally ending things with her mother in such short order had left her a little lost for awhile, sort of drifting, suddenly bereft of the two people, the two relationships that had been driving so many of her actions in the year since she'd come back. Without them, she found herself grasping for something, anything to do, a mission to keep her moving, something to focus on as she continued to struggle to be human, to live up to the expectations of her dad, of school, of society, and of herself.

She'd found that mission in Scott. She'd looked around at their pack, at how everybody had somebody to look out for them, to be there for them no matter what. Liam and Hayden. Mason and Corey. Even Stiles and Lydia, the former painfully transparent, the latter completely in denial as they danced around each other.

The pack was close, everybody willing to fight and even die for each other, but they all had somebody, one specific person who always came first. But not her anymore. And not Scott, left on his own as Kira went to deal with her control issues. She'd sensed the same loss, the same drifting in him as she felt in herself, and seized on it, figuring it was the perfect way to kill two birds with one stone. She'd use her new free time to be there for him, have his back, hangout, just be the supportive friend he needed. In return, she'd get a distraction, something to concentrate on, to do, when everything else around her got to be too much.

"Yeah, well," she muttered, looking down at her plate, pushing a potato around with her fork. "That's just as much for me as it is for you. Maybe more."

"I know. Doesn't make it mean any less to me. Malia, look at me." Slowly, she looked up, meeting his gaze, seeing the same intensity, same emotion on his face as before. "Thank you."

Their eyes remained locked together, neither blinking, barely breathing for a moment, and Malia felt a little jolt go through her. It felt like something had shifted between them at the acknowledgement, though she couldn't quite figure out what exactly the difference was. Shaking herself lightly, she cleared her throat and nodded. "You're welcome." Her voice was a little husky, emotion thickening her tone, and she winced a little, but his expression never changed. "And thank you. For the food. And the gift. And for being here."

"No problem." A wide grin split his face then, and he leaned back in his chair and raised his eyebrows, the tension that had been steadily growing over the last few minutes instantly erased. "Phew, man, that got heavy there for a second. Enough of that. Let's finish this before it gets cold and I have to heat it all up again."

Letting out an amused snort, she shook her head and sighed, then went back to her plate. The rest of dinner went by mostly in silence, the little bit of small-talk mostly aimed at their friends, at what they all had planned for the rest of break. Neither of them had much in mind aside from enjoying the brief respite from school, and they both knew their friends well enough to know most of their plans would be discarded in favour of sleeping in and watching movies before long. So they got a few laughs out of that as they cleaned up their food.

"What do you wanna do with all these dishes?" Scott asked once he was done.

Malia briefly looked toward the dishwasher, then frowned and shook her head. "Just leave them. I'll load up the dishwasher later. There are so many, and I really don't feel like doing stuff right now," she confided, leaning back in her chair, eyes closed, and patting her stomach gently.

"I know what you mean. But I'll help if you want. Put that super-strength to good use."

Snorting, she shook her head and waved off his offer. "No, it's all right. I'm sure you're still exhausted from your shopping trip with Lydia. It's only been, what, like three weeks?" she teased, cracking open an eye and smirking at him.

"Don't joke. I thought my arms were gonna fall off the next day." He managed to keep the serious expression on his face for about ten seconds after that, before his lips began to twitch and a grin quickly appeared there. For a moment, they just sat there, smiling at each other, content to bask in the cheerful, fun atmosphere they'd found. But then Scott sighed and glanced at the clock on the oven. "Well, since dinner's finished, I guess I should get going," he said, reluctance sitting heavy in his voice.

"You don't have to leave yet," she quickly blurted out, a part of her recoiling violently at the thought of being alone again so soon. "I mean, we could watch a movie or something. Or I'm sure there'll be Christmas specials on. If you don't, y'know, have somewhere else to be, I wouldn't mind the company." She knew she was babbling, but for some reason, she just couldn't stop herself. At least until she saw a soft smile spread across his face.

"Yeah, sure," he said, nodding, his eyes scanning her face closely. "I am completely free tonight. Rudolph and Frosty it is. Lead the way."

Rising from the cluttered table, they made their way into the living room, taking seats on opposite ends of the couch. Tucking her legs underneath her, Malia grabbed the remote and began going through channels, searching for one of the old Christmas cartoons, the ones she remembered watching as a kid with her mom and her sister. Finding a channel that was showing all the most famous ones on a loop all night, they both settled in to watch.

Watching tv with Scott was always something she found amusing. He tended to get very absorbed in whatever he was watching, to the point where he'd be leaning forward, quietly cheering on the good guys and cursing the bad guys under his breath. She spent most the next hour watching him closely, a little smile on her face. Seeing him lose himself in that way in Rudolph was more entertaining for her than the actual show.

Malia lost track of time then, the minutes and hours falling away as she let herself relax, enjoying the companionship and the entertainment, both on the screen and sitting next to her. In the back of her mind, she could feel a little bit of wonder at how nice her night had turned out, especially in comparison to how it had started. It wasn't like it had a lot of competition, but if she was ranking all the Christmas days she'd lived through in her life, this one would be right near the top. And if that wasn't a miracle given how it had been going before Scott showed up, she didn't know what was.

Unfortunately, it couldn't last forever, and eventually Scott turned to her, an apologetic look on his face, and gestured to the door. "I should probably get going. It's been a long day." Almost as if to prove his point, he paused then and yawned, almost losing his face his mouth opened so wide. "See. Wow." He grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."

She waved off his concern, ignoring the immediate sense of loss she felt. "No, you're right. I'm wearing down too," she assured him as he rose and stretched. Slowly, she followed his lead, reluctantly trailing after him as he headed for the door.

"Well, this was fun," he said, after pulling on his shoes. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he grinned at her and jerked his head toward the kitchen. "Just, uh, call me when everything's clean and I'll pick it all up. Or you can drop it off. Whatever works best."

"Yeah, sure, no problem." For some reason beyond her comprehension, Malia suddenly felt strangely, almost unbearably awkward. That same feeling from earlier was back, like something had changed between them, only it was even stronger now, and not knowing what and why it was different was messing with her head just a bit. "Uh, thanks for tonight, Scott. I just... sorry, I'm not good with words." She grinned a little self-consciously and nervously brushed her hair back from her face. "I appreciate you doing this, being here. It means a lot."

"Hey, that's what friends do. You've been there for me, and I'm here for you when you need me. And I always will be," he said, a happy smile stretching his lips as he looked at her. When he abruptly stepped toward her, it caught her off-guard, but she didn't pull away as he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. "Merry Christmas, Malia," he said softly as he pulled away, a slight flush visible on his cheeks. Before she could say a word, he turned on his heel and opened the door, quickly stepping out into the cool night air.

Behind him, she was frozen, staring after him, her mind racing a mile a minute. It wasn't that strange, a little kiss from a friend. She'd seen him kiss Lydia on the cheek before. It wasn't a big deal.

But he hadn't kissed her on the cheek, and there'd been something in his eyes as he leaned in, something that sent a surge of warmth rocketing through her chest. And as she stood there, watching him walk away, the meaning of what she'd been sensing all night, that shift she'd picked up on, suddenly crystallized in her mind. She wanted to kiss him again. She liked that warmth, liked spending time with him. She liked him.

"Scott!" Before her brain could fully re-engage, she stepped out onto the porch after him, hand reaching out for his arm. Pausing, he turned around, eyes finding hers. "You're just gonna kiss me and walk away? Really?"

To her surprise, he just grinned and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I was. Is that a problem?" She could hear the challenge in his voice, see it in the way his eyebrow arched, almost daring her to make a move.

Scoffing, she stepped right up to him, close enough she could feel the heat of his body through their clothes. "Yeah, that's a problem."

Fisting her hands in the front of his jacket, she jerked him forward, pulling him tight to her, and leaned forward, slanting her lips over his. She felt his hands come up, gently framing her face as he kissed her back, but she was focused on the feeling of his lips on hers, the taste of him, how good he felt pressed up against her.

When they broke apart, breathing heavily, Scott leaned his forehead against hers and let out a little breathless chuckle. "Merry Christmas to me," he said softly, drawing a huff of amusement from her as his thumbs gently stroked across her cheeks.

"Merry Christmas to both of us, I think." Slowly, she pulled back so she could look at his face. The smile she saw there was probably the biggest she could remember ever seeing on him. "So, that was... a little unexpected."

"Yeah, a little. But..." He drew out the word and punctuated it with a sheepish smile, "maybe not as much as you might think."

"Oh?" She arched an eyebrow, a little smirk tugging at her lips. "You've been thinking about doing something like that for awhile?"

Rocking his head from side to side, he shrugged, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he grinned. "I plead the fifth."

"No, no, I want to hear all about it," she teased, reaching out and poking him playfully in the chest. "Come on, tell me."

"You really want to talk right now?"

Pausing, she met his gaze again, seeing the desire in his eyes, the affection, aimed at her. Things she abruptly realised she'd seen before, more than once, and somehow never recognised. She wasn't sure if it was wilful ignorance on her part, or if it had really just taken a kiss to finally clear away whatever blinders she'd had on lately. Either way, she could see it now, and knowing he wanted her that much was doing interesting, wonderful things to her stomach, her heart, her mind.

"No," she said softly, reaching up and ghosting a hand over his cheek. "Do you really want to leave?"

"Absolutely not."

"Good."

Dropping her hand, Malia grasped his and turned, leading him back toward the open door. As they stepped back inside out of the cold, she did a quick re-ranking of all her Christmas days in the back of her mind. Whatever was happening, whatever they'd just stumbled into had just vaulted it out way ahead of all the rest. And as she savoured the comfortable weight of his hand in hers, she was sure it would be a long, long time before any day even came close.

* * *

 _ **AN:** Just a little Christmas Scalia for everybody. I don't usually do holiday-themed stuff, but I was inspired by the season and by _Tarafina's _' **let your heart (be light)** ', and this is what I came up with. You should check out that story too though, if you haven't. It's really good. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this. The characterisation is a little loose, I know, but I don't think it's the worst thing I've ever written. As always, let me know what you think._

 _Happy holidays_

 _\- D_


End file.
